


I Do

by Of_Nyon



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Conjunx Endura, Conjunx Ritus, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, more TBA - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-07-31 21:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20122108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Nyon/pseuds/Of_Nyon
Summary: “Traditionally, a Transformer chooses a prospective partner through the ritual known as the Conjunx Ritus: four acts of affection and mutual kindness which cement the bond between the two individuals.”Birthday fic for myself :”)





	1. The Act of Intimacy

**Author's Note:**

> I make the rules. I’m god now. Canon BEGONE. I’m here to be MUSHY!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This takes place immediately after the killswitch 👀_

Drift had been exiled. He’d been blamed for allowing Overlord on board, for keeping it a secret and convincing Brainstorm and Chromedome to help him. His Autobot title had been revoked and he had to leave immediately. Actually, it had been a while since he’d taken a pod and left.

To say that Rodimus wasn’t coping well with the lack of company was an understatement. Magnus noticed. Of course he would notice. 

Rodimus wasn’t paying attention. Not in the same way he usually did when something external distracted him. He had an empty, almost far away look in his usually fiery full-of-life optics, and he worryingly reacted slower than usual. He also wasn’t talking as much. Not that a silent Rodimus wasn’t rare, but the way he refused to talk, refused to even send comms, was extremely concerning to Magnus. 

Despite the lack of truly analyzing his non-work interpersonal relationships, Magnus could easily say his concern reached deeper than a second-in-command worrying over his captain. 

Rodimus wasn’t looking at anyone anymore. 

“Rodimus,” Magnus had said once. Some sort of… intervention had seemed appropriate. It looked like his captain really needed it. “Are you unwell?”

But Rodimus had snorted. Somehow, the noise rang empty in his office. “What makes you say that?”

“I noticed that you have not been behaving like yourself lately.”

Rodimus had scoffed, this time something akin to irritation clear in the way his spoiler raised sharply. There was still something. “Oh c’mon, Mags. I’m fine! And how do I usually act anyway?”

Magnus straightened his back, as if that wasn’t already impossible. “You’re quick to make witty comments when we go over any plans we have, you like to fidget and play with anything you can get your servos on, and you’re usually capable of keeping tabs on the crew in order to attend for needs.”

The way Magnus felt his shoulders slump as he found what he really wanted to say difficult to voice was strange even to him. 

Rodimus had only stared at him, his frown just as empty as the smiles Magnus had seen him give earlier. 

The fact that Magnus remembered this now, of all times, as he sat next to his dying captain, really felt like a distraction. And, in this specific context, it felt inappropriate and uncomfortable. 

He didn’t even know – or couldn’t care to find – where Ratchet or First Aid or Ambulon had decided to hide. The way Rodimus desperately grasped for his larger servos, unable to find the strength to keep them there, thoroughly captured Magnus’s attention. The way his optics leaked and leaked so much coolant, and ran down his flushed cheeks and dulling helm, could have been enough to break Magnus.

“I don’t wanna die…” he muttered, voice full of so much static Magnus almost wasn’t sure he heard right. “I don’t wanna die…”

“Rodimus-” Magnus began, but quickly found he didn’t know what he was going to say. What he wanted to say. What he _should_ say to his dying captain. What could he even say?

“Mags- Mags… I can’t die here…” Rodimus hiccuped, and scraped his servos against Magnus’s own. “Please don’t let me die, Mags… Please…”

Magnus cupped what he could of Rodimus’s frantic servos, feeling his spark tighten around those words. “Rodimus-”

“I need to make things _right…”_ he groaned through the static, and whatever remaining energy Rodimus had was quickly diminishing. The frantic fidgeting calmed down, and, for once, Magnus wished Rodimus would remain full of energy until the medics came. “Don’t let me die… I can’t die…”

And they came rushing, pushing Magnus out of the way, as Rodimus’s optics lost all the cerulean light. As Magnus stepped out of the way, and was escorted out of the medibay by Ambulon, Magnus couldn’t help but note that he’d never seen Rodimus this close to… the color gray. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _:”D_
> 
> _I PROMISE THIS IS THE DARKEST CHAPTER… It’ll be lighter from now on I promise_


	2. The Act of Disclosure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This one was REALLY difficult to write and idk why >>_
> 
> _I also realized that Ambulon isn’t canonically… alive when this is supposed to take place. BUT YOU KNO WHAT. I MAKE THE RULES NOW. Ambulon is alive_
> 
> _edit: actually i can’t remember now if Ambulon is supposed to canonically be alive or not so!! Whatever!! It’s alright!!_
> 
> _WELL!! I hope y’all still like it 0”:_

Rodimus could sit up now. That was a plus. He was refueling on his own too. Another plus. Even the color in his frame was almost back to normal. He still wouldn’t look up when he was addressed, however. And he refused to give any news about his wellbeing to the rest of the crew. 

As far as Minimus was aware, only he and the medical crew knew what had happened to their captain after he sacrificed his half of the Matrix. Perhaps Perceptor knew too, since he worked out how to stop the killswitch, but he hadn’t said a word. Not even to Brainstorm. 

This time, Minimus wanted to respect Rodimus’s privacy. And honor his wishes now that he _ could. _

He sat beside the medical berth, ignoring the dismissed datapads on top the foldable table Ratchet had been kind enough to fetch him. Rodimus had greeted him, which wasn’t new anymore, but it was still progress. _ Good _ progress, Minimus reminded himself. 

He had already fueled, feeling that it would be awkward for him to refuel with medium grade energon when Rodimus was still on the medical stuff. Turns out, not having anything to do together made the situation a type of awkward he couldn’t quite describe. Not when he hadn’t let himself feel it before.

Rodimus drank his energon, sneaking little glances at his second-in-command. Minimus pretended to not notice; he would at least give him that for now.

“Um,” Rodimus started, breaking the silence before he seemed prepared. Hearing the static clear up more and more every time he spoke was a relief. Minimus could almost admit that he wanted to smile. “I uh, wanted to know how the crew was doing?”

“Well,” Minimus said, wiggling his mustache in thought. “Perceptor is continuing his research with the Matrix like you asked. Cyclonus officially replaced his broken horn and had Ratchet repair the claw marks on his face.” He looked at the minibot that remained in stasis a couple berths away from Rodimus. “Tailgate is recovering nicely. Ratchet also said that no one who was constructed cold sustained any permanent injuries.”

With each update, Rodimus looked more at ease. He took a deep breath before looking up – for the first time – and staring into Minimus’s crimson optics. 

“How have… _ you _ been doing?”

It hadn’t been a question Minimus expected. Rodimus looking up _ at _ him after so long was huge in and of itself. It was almost overwhelming, and Minimus couldn’t think of what to say.

“I… have been managing,” was all he said. The way Rodimus wrinkled his nose seemed like the answer he got wasn’t satisfactory, but he didn’t push. Not this time. His behavior was still so out of the ordinary. 

The silence returned, and Minimus found himself shifting around in his seat. Back to feeling awkward, and not having the energy to focus on his work. 

The entire situation had messed up his routine, his motivation to work, and he even found himself feeling… _ insecure. _He found himself more worried about the crew and how they were coping than before. He found himself working best during his visitations with Rodimus and Tailgate.

He found himself waking up and not _ wanting _ to wear the Magnus armor. Things were different, and he didn’t know how to feel about the sudden changes. 

“Hey, Minimus?” Rodimus asked, and Minimus looked at his captain wholly. Despite the color in his frame returning, he still looked so tired. So exhausted. He looked battered and lonely and _ tired. _ Yet the look he gave Minimus was still full of concern and worry, and _ life. _

“Actually,” Minimus almost rasped out, and he suddenly felt nervous. Why he did, he couldn’t explain. Something about the way his captain looked at him. It made him _ want _ to tell him everything he felt. “I haven’t been… at the top of my game, as you like to say.”

Rodimus didn’t respond. Instead, he scooted closer to Minimus – as close as he could get on the berth while still being hooked up to the machines behind him. He nodded when he was ready, and Minimus found himself taking a shaky breath. 

“Things… are different,” Minimus said, and be could no longer look at Rodimus. He stared down at his unfinished reports and furrowed his eyebrows. “For once, I don’t know how to feel about the change. Everything used to be so… absolute. Black and white. Good or bad. Lawful and chaotic.”

Rodimus knew that. He had to. He had purposefully sought out _ Ultra Magnus _ to be his second-in-command for that exact reason. Magnus was authoritative when Rodimus was indecisive. It was _ supposed _ to help with decision making and seeing the logic. 

Minimus could’ve scoffed. The _ Lost Light _ had changed him so much. 

“Now,” he continued. “Nothing is set. I… don’t quite know how to express myself anymore. If I still _ can. _ Too much is different.”

Rodimus hummed, and Minimus carefully looked up at his captain. His alive captain. His fiery, stubborn, ambitious, distracted, heroic, tired captain. 

“…You were the biggest constant in this ship,” Minimus confessed, and sighed. He couldn’t say any more; he didn’t know if he wanted to. He’d changed too much. 

Rodimus smiled and took Minimus’s green servo in his own golden ones. “I’ll work hard to be that constant again,” Rodimus said, simply and directly, and Minimus could have crumbled. He needed to hear that. He hadn’t known it, but it felt right. It felt nice. 

He squeezed Rodimus’s servos. “Thank you.” He didn’t mind the mild static in his voice. 


	3. The Act of Profference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This is my fav chapter ;)_

Ultra Magnus had long since learned that Rodimus was a good kisser. How Rodimus learned – or maybe who he learned _ with _ – hadn’t bothered him once he’d realized that _ this _ was their reality now. Their _ shared _ reality. What mattered now wasn’t any past partners his captain may have had. What mattered now was that Rodimus liked to kiss him, and _ only _ him. 

And every time Rodimus snuck up behind him, asked him to turn around, and found a way to pull his helm down so he could plant one of his infamous kisses on his forever surprised lips, Magnus learned that he needed to give back in any way that he could. His lack of… _ experience _ discouraged him, sometimes _ embarrassed _ him, but he refused to let that dictate his actions. 

He _ wanted _ to give back. But he didn’t know _ what _ he could give that would leave a lasting impression on his captain. It was difficult enough to find something that caught all of Rodimus’s attention, but something that he could keep coming back to? Had Magnus not been a literal person, he’d deem his situation impossible. It didn’t help that he didn’t consider himself very creative when it came to his captain and his… niche interests. 

So when his far too long shift was over, when he could finally return to his habsuite and rest, and he was struck with an idea, he almost shot it down. It felt too tricky, too personal to handle properly. Perhaps even taboo. And too early in their relationship. But he had to remind himself that relationships had no rules, that there are no guidelines to follow, and that everyone’s pace is always different.

It was something Rodimus had told him once, and he had taken it to heart. He wanted to be good for Rodimus, he wanted to be enough, and he wanted to be able to catch up to his antics. It was a lot to learn, for someone as unmoving in their mindsets as _ Ultra Magnus, _ but he was trying. 

So he would try this for Rodimus.

_—~•*•*•~— _

“It’s not like you to keep secrets like this.”

“That’s correct. I… wanted to try something. For you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Come inside, please.”

Rodimus did as he was asked, and couldn’t help himself from gawking at Magnus’s habsuite, because it was _ exactly _ how he had imagined it to be. 

The habsuite itself was spacious, as Magnus – or rather the _ armor _ – needed all of the space. The only furniture his second in command had was entirely practical, which consisted of a desk and chair, and a separate table where Rodimus assumed Magnus refueled at. The walls were barren, and the room itself looked lifeless. There were doors symmetrically across from each other, which Rodimus surmised were the washwrack and where Magnus actually recharged in. He spared a single glance at Magnus’s desk, and realized it was just as neat, symmetrical, and boring as the rest of the room. 

If Magnus’s secret was inside his habsuite… 

“Well, what is it?” Rodimus asked, placing his servos on his hip kibble. “I bet it’d be pretty difficult for you to hide a whole secret in here when it’s so…” He waved a servo, looking for the right word to say that wouldn’t hurt Magnus’s feelings. 

“Neat?” Magnus chimed in. 

Rodimus stopped himself just in time before he snorted. “Sure.”

“It’s not… a physical gift.” Magnus answered. “Rather, it’s more symbolic. Or maybe not. I’m not entirely sure how you will interpret it.” He frowned. “You know I’m not good at… _ this.” _

Rodimus tilted his helm to the side, curious to see what Magnus has planned for him. “Oh?”

“In the end… this is very difficult to do,” Magnus said, sighing. “And I ask that you try not to joke too much.”

At that, Rodimus raised his arms and waved his servos defensively. “Oh! Yeah, no worries Mags. I wouldn’t joke about this.” He calmed his waving and gave the other mech a comforting smile. “Whenever you’re ready, I am too.”

Magnus nodded. “Alright.”

He let his optics dim, and his frame suddenly jerked until he froze completely. Rodimus could hear his transformation cog working, and, before long, Magnus’s chassis kibble slid apart to revealing a sitting Minimus Ambus. With sharp precision, perhaps from prior practice, Rodimus thought, Minimus stepped out of the armor, using its large arms as support. 

“I have been thinking rather deeply about our relationship,” Minimus started, taking a few steps towards Rodimus. “Specifically, I’ve been thinking about what I still need to learn—”

“Oh, hey, hey.” Still trying to guess what Minimus was trying to say, or even _ do, _ Rodimus still felt he should say something. “If this is about you not knowing what it’s like to be in a relationship, or not feeling ready, I promise you’re not doing half bad, and I’ll be patient!”

Minimus shook his head. “It’s not that, Rodimus.”

Rodimus’s spoiler twitched in confusion. “Oh.”

“Well.” Minimus averted his gaze, furrowing his eyebrows in thought. “It’s _ partially _ that, but it has to do more with what I… want to do for you.”

“…I’m not following.”

“I’ve thought about this more than I intended to,” Minimus continued, and stopped a ways from the now taller mech. “I’ve realized that showing you will perhaps help you understand more than if I were to try to explain.”

Minimus jerked still, just as he had in the Magnus armor, and Rodimus gasped, already realizing what Minimus was doing. The green mech’s optics dimmed, and he froze completely. The transformation seams across his entire frame shifted, and the kibble across his torso and thighs moved out of the way to reveal irreducible Minimus. 

The armor’s arms and legs retracted to free Minimus’s limbs, and he pulled off the helm, and Rodimus really took in the view. The tiny view that he rarely, if ever, had the privilege of seeing. 

Minimus carefully placed the helm inside of the armor, and took the last steps towards Rodimus. He barely stood at the other’s mid thigh, but his determination refused to let him back down now.

Rodimus himself felt like he was floating, never before watching Minimus remove _ all _ of his suits at once. It had been mesmerizing, realizing that the suits, in a way, truly did function closely to their natural transformation to their alt-modes. The fact that Minimus – _ irreducible _ Minimus – felt comfortable enough to show him all that and stand before him made Rodimus’s spark flutter delightfully. 

“Rodimus,” Minimus began, and the other could’ve sworn the slight shift of his mustache was a tiny, crooked smile. “Put simply, you make me… very happy.

“You listen, and you think about the well-being of others first before you even begin to _ consider _ your own. You’ve somehow managed to make this ship into our new home, and you welcome those with no other places to turn to.”

Minimus smiled, truly and fully, and still ever so awkwardly, and Rodimus realized he was tearing up. That didn’t make Minimus stop his spiel. 

“You are ambitious, hard-working, and, although you can be stubborn and unpredictable, your intentions are never to hurt. You want to help, and that’s all you’ve aimed to do since we set out on this quest.”

Minimus brought his servos up to his chassis just as he lowered his gaze. The seams directly underneath his servos shifted and pulled back slowly. Had the faint beams of green light not shown through the enlarging cracks, Rodimus would’ve wondered if irreducible Minimus wasn’t actually as irreducible as he claimed. However, as the thought processed in his helm, he realized _ what _ those beams of light really were, and the tears in his eyes finally ran freely down his face. 

“For everything that you’ve done,” Minimus continued. “I want to give you something that can hopefully _ begin _ to match the unbelievable passion you hold for your crew. For your family. And not metaphorically.”

Minimus looked up, locking his purposeful red optics on Rodimus’s flowing sky blues, and he removed his servos. The habsuite filled with the bright green light emanating from his spark, and Rodimus hiccuped. 

“Rodimus of Nyon,” Minimus said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet firm and just as purposeful as his gaze. “If you will have me, I want to give you my spark, until the end of our eternity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _SCREAMS_
> 
> _I’VE WANTED TO WRITE (AND FINISH WRITING) THIS PARTICULAR CHAPTER SINCE THE FIRST ONE_
> 
> _And now… it is DONE. Onto the actual Hard chapter :”D_

**Author's Note:**

> This is my own bday present (aug.07 !) bc I’m turning 18!! Thank you for reading :”)


End file.
